Old Song, New Twist

By Phil Wood

Steal away. Steal away. Steal away to Jesus.

Steal away. Steal away home.

I ain't got long to stay here.

                                                                                               

                        American Negro Spiritual

On a recent Sunday during worship I sang a duet with my friend, John. It was that old spiritual called Steal Away. Later, in the sermon, Pastor Bruce rightly suggested that perhaps the song could leave some wrong impressions if we're not careful.

I hadn't thought about it much till that moment. I was thinking it fit loosely with the idea of spiritual formation, inviting us to "steal away" from all the other things that consume us and spend some time with Jesus before it's too late.

As I thought more about it, though, the slaves who sang that song probably had a different meaning in mind. For them, it probably was expressing a deep longing to get away from this world of toil and pain to be with Jesus in the "Sweet By and By." Some people believe this and other songs were actually code-like revelations of real plans to escape (steal away via underground railroad)..."I ain't got long to stay here."

Either way, I can't say as I blame them, given the oppression they were suffering. But one wrong impression we could get from the lyrics today is that it's okay to simply pine away for the better life to come, without trying to do something in this life to make things better. That's not what Jesus had in mind.

Instead, Pastor Bruce talked about working to improve any situation we find ourselves in so as to create signposts of God's kingdom which will be fully realized when Christ returns. He used Chuck Colson's work in prisons as an example of such a signpost.

Another possible wrong impression one might get from Steal Away is the idea that heaven is some distant, ethereal place, far removed from this earth, where disembodied spirits float around in eternal bliss. This is not a biblical perception of heaven.

But rather than throwing away a perfectly good song, I propose we just ascribe to it a new meaning! From now on, I declare that Steal Away shall be a song that means the Kingdom of God is already here for those who have stolen away home to Jesus!

By getting to know Jesus, by following him and letting him teach us how to be like him, we become more and more like our heavenly selves, the selves we were intended to be, the selves we will be in that Sweet By and By. We, ourselves, become signposts.

Some day, Jesus will come again and transform the universe once and for all. He will make the earth like it was intended to be. He will create new heavens and a new earth, but the earth will still be the place we call home. The main difference is that God will call it home, too.

In the meantime, the work has already begun. God is transforming us, so we can exhibit the Kingdom in the here and now. That is, so we can show others what "heaven" will be like. This is true witnessing, true evangelism. A signpost.

The slaves, in their suffering, may not have been aware of it, but I believe many of them were doing that, too – exhibiting the Kingdom of God right here on this earth, right in the midst of all that misery. By living righteous lives, by teaching their children about Jesus, by not treating others as they were treated, by singing soulfully to their savior and putting their hope in him in spite of their troubles, they continue to be an inspiration to the world today. Their songs still touch our souls. Signposts.

May we have the courage to follow their example, and exhibit Kingdom behavior in our era, which has its own troubles. We just need to steal away. Steal away to Jesus. We ain't got long in this life. Let's make the best of it.

Lord, we want to be your witnesses, so others will see the great joy that can be theirs for eternity – starting now. 

Who Are My Enemies?

By Phil Wood

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows.

                                                                                                Psalm 23:5

Last night, I awoke in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep – too many things on my mind. My normal response to this is to squeeze my eyes shut even tighter and try to will myself back to sleep. This, of course, never works, so I determined to use the time to practice a spiritual discipline: meditating on Scripture.

The 23rd Psalm came to mind, as it's one of the few passages I actually know by heart and it has always been among the most peaceful and comforting to me. I slowly repeated the verses over and over, remaining open to whatever new understanding God would reveal to me.

When I came to the part about the table being prepared before me in the presence of my enemies, I stopped and wondered, what is this verse saying to me? I'm not like David, the author of the psalm. I'm not a king with people ever plotting my downfall. I'm not a warrior in the field of battle with someone behind every rock waiting to kill me. And that's when the aha moment came. I think I gasped right out loud there in the darkness, though Marianne remained in slumber.

What I realized was that my enemies are everything and everyone standing between me and a deepening relationship with God. And these enemies are indeed hiding behind every rock.

The "head enemy" will do anything to keep us from growing closer to God and finding out about the amazing joy that comes with that. He doesn't want us to know that being transformed into the image of Christ ignites God's love within us. He would much rather we continue blindly along thinking we're good little Christians just as we are.

While Mar and I were on our "vacation with God" (see April 9 devotional), our enemies were here piling up things for us to do when we got home – things that heaped coals on the hurry sickness we thought we had defeated while on vacation. Sure enough, these things have gotten squarely in the way of spending time with the Lord now that we're back. And there I was, wide awake in the middle of the night with too many things on my mind.

Who is our enemy? For some the enemy is over-commitment and hurry sickness and all the ways the enemy uses to feed that sickness.

For some the enemy is our own selfish hearts (Pogo: "I have met the enemy and he is us.") For all of us the enemy is sin and all those minions of the enemy who willingly purvey opportunities to turn from paths of righteousness.

For some the enemy is alcohol or drugs, or hours in front of the mind-numbing television.

For some the enemy is the never-ending quest to amass wealth and make their futures financially secure. We all have to work and provide for our families. But when these pursuits take over our lives to the point where we have no time for God, you can be sure the enemy is in there, slugging away.

Our enemy is everything and everyone who stands between us and a growing, deepening, loving relationship with the one who loves us beyond measure.

What God was teaching me last night as I listened to his Living Word was this. With the Lord as my shepherd, I am in need of NOTHING! Right there in the presence of my enemies, with all their guile, all their clever temptations, my Lord has prepared a table for me. Everything my heart truly desires is on that table. My cup overflows.

And with these reassuring thoughts, I soon drifted back to sleep.

My God, my Shepherd, lead us each into sweet, peaceful, loving communion with you. Nothing else compares. 

Resting in the Lord

By Phil Wood

Scripture – Matthew 11:28-30

I just turned 67, Marianne 66. And we are just now taking our first vacation. Oh, we've been on plenty of trips running around doing lots of stuff in other places instead of running around doing lots of stuff at home. Each of these trips has been energizing and a relief from tedium. But we've never gone someplace with the deliberate intention of simply resting in the Lord.

As I write, we're well into the third day of a six-day rest, and Marianne just looked at me with a very beautiful and knowing smile and said, "This is the best vacation we've ever had." We've never been on a vacation with God before.

We're sitting in the shade of a palapa and some coconut trees at the edge of the jungle – with literally miles of white, powdery sand stretching out in either direction – just letting the Spirit roll over us like the endless waves rolling up on the beach. Every morning so far, we've had this beach pretty much to ourselves.

Not even 100 steps back into the jungle over the soft, undulating sand, is our little thatch-roof cabana with nothing but a king size bed, a shower and a tiny little porch with two chairs. This morning, sitting there in the quiet of dawn, I actually sensed how Adam must have felt. I was in the Garden, and God was right there with me. It was brief, just a flash. But it was electrifying!

Today, we've been doing our best to have a day of silence. We're just trying things – experimenting with some spiritual disciplines to see how we can fit a more contemplative lifestyle into our daily routine. This morning on the porch I practiced the discipline of solitude and learned that it can be a way not to be alone but in the company of my creator.

During our day of practicing silence, we have been learning to hear God better. I spent quite a bit of time trying the discipline of "praying Scripture." Then in the afternoon, instead of allowing my hurry sickness to push me into praying harder, reading faster and studying more diligently, I intentionally indulged in the discipline of "holy leisure." I slipped into the ocean and let God rock me gently on the swelling waves. Then I walked back up on the beach, sprawled on a mattress and just basked in his glory.

John Ortberg says hurry is a disease of the soul. If we want to grow spiritually, he says, we must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from our lives. Today I came at it with a machete. Big deal, you say. Who couldn't take a few bloody hacks at hurry sickness while stretched out on a Caribbean beach thousands of miles from his computer? All I can say is everybody's got to start somewhere. Today God helped me understand the importance of this step at a deeper level.

This week, Mar and I began to incorporate more spiritual disciplines into our lives. We believe this is the road to the center of God's heart and that, along the way, God has many important changes in store for us. We'll keep you posted.

Lord, let your spirit roll through the church like the waves of the ocean, bringing each of us a fresh new awareness of the many ways we can open ourselves to your presence, your gentle instruction, your abiding peace, and your amazing love.

Good Friday Sunrise

By Pat Russell

Scripture:  Matthew 26:74-27:2

Sunrise is a significant time of day in Holy Week. The first sunrise that comes to mind is, of course, Resurrection Day. However, consider another sunrise – the sunrise of this day, Good Friday. It was at this time that the rooster crowed coinciding with Peter’s third denial of his Lord. It was at this time that the religious leaders of the people reached a decision concerning Jesus – they handed him over to Pilate for a death sentence. It is a sunrise of betrayal!

And yet, Jesus, who will die on this day of betrayal, is centered in his mind and heart upon obedience to his Father. He is not panicked by the accusations, by the crowds, or by the desertion of his friends. With love He takes into consideration those around him. He enters this day, after a night of torture, with a calmness that has the authorities baffled. 

We call this GOOD Friday. How can this be, when the day begins with betrayal and ends with death? In the midst of evil, something good is happening for each of us. In the midst of betrayal, Someone good is making a way for the sunrise of betrayal to become the sunrise of Resurrection.

As you consider this day from sunrise to sunset, dwell on Jesus’ attitude toward those around him. Imagine yourself in the presence of Jesus on this day. What does He have for you? 

Passover

By Pat Russell

They sat around the table in the dim twilight of the evening. The conversation was easy, as these men had been together nearly three years now. Their friendships were forged in the heat of the sun, on the dusty Galilean roads and in the cool night breeze on the Lake of Galilee. Theirs was not a friendship of convenience or easy likableness. No, they were such very different sorts. 

Only being together night and day in stressful situations could give birth to such love between them. Jealousy, pride, anger, humor, laziness, lack of trust, tenderness, fear, amazement, near exhaustion, joy, sorrow: these were but a few of the human conditions that bound them together in a knot so strong that it seemed as though nothing could break it. Even so, one stood on the fringe, not because he was not wanted, but because he seemed to keep a part of himself from the others. 

And always there was Jesus. He was the golden cord that kept them bound. He saw into each man’s soul and knew what was going on at the very core, even though their spoken words might say otherwise. He was able to take a conversation about the mundane things of life and turn it into a window into heaven. He protected them and provided for them when things looked hopeless. He helped them to see how such different backgrounds mean nothing when people choose to be committed to one another. He led them into the very courts of the temple with truth that pierced the hearts of all who heard him speak.

Three years of togetherness. Three years of growth in body, mind and spirit. Three years of another world. But of late it seemed that things were going to change. The friction was stronger, the hate more fierce, the love more intense; moments of peace and quiet were fewer. Even Jesus seemed more resolute, more directed. On some days He seemed almost gone to another place. Something was brewing, but no one knew what.

Now at this Passover meal, the twelve men told stories of their encounters of the last few days. They laughed with one another and questioned one another in easy familiarity. They were brothers of the lasting kind. Then, raising his hands, Jesus began to speak to them about the days to come and their world was changed forever.  

Lenten Devotional #5: Godliness

Psalm of my Cross

                  Fr. Ed Hays

With wisdom deeper than the oceans, you have fashioned with great love

                  a special cross for each of us.

May my Lenten gift this year be to more clearly see

                  my cross as a Jacob’s ladder, rising to you

                  out of my painful, troubled sea.

I place my hand with trust, into the hand of my Gethsemani Guide,

                  so that I might joyfully embrace everything that I would

                  gladly prefer to discard as disgrace

                  everything that makes up my cross,

                  my way to you, Beloved God.

Open my heart this day that I may see with eyes of truth

                  whether the painful cross I bear as mine,

                  claiming it as holy burden,

                  does indeed come from you, my God –

                  or if by chance my cross is one of my own creation.

Teach me this day not to carry my cross

                  but rather the Jacob’s ladder of your will.

Guide me as I seek with all my heart

                  to climb it daily as a sacred spiral staircase,

                  spiraling in sacrificial splendor,

                  winding ever wider, ever higher, opening me more and more

                  to Your wisdom and will, to becoming one in You.

Submitted by Pat Russell